


Both

by softspot



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Coming Out, Internalized Transphobia, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Character, Trans Michael Mell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 13:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13272870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softspot/pseuds/softspot
Summary: This year it’s either come out or kill yourself.Michael has written a letter for both circumstances.





	Both

**Author's Note:**

> This is me using this past hour to project. It is dark. Read the tags and be safe.

This year it’s either come out or kill yourself.

Michael has written a letter for both circumstances.

He switches between his word documents with precision. Tuesday nights are not the best for decisions, but Michael has put off this decision too long to wait any longer. Unfortunately, high school starts tomorrow. And tomorrow Michael would either show up as Michael or he wouldn’t show up at all. That was what he was sure of. He was sure he was not going to spend another year being called the wrong name and pronouns. He was only unsure of how he would get those results. He was unsure which letter he was going to leave on the kitchen table for his mom as he left tonight.

Michael scratches at his wrist to avoid picking up his cellphone. He desperately wants to call Jeremy. Jeremy was good at decision-making, no matter the day of the week. He was rational and logical, but for once in his life, Michael wanted to make a decision on his own. He couldn’t though.

He quickly contemplated printing off both, leaving them on the table, and riding his bike to the bridge that was a part of plan #2. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. This wasn’t like when Jeremy would ask if he wanted Chip’s Ahoy or Oreos. This wasn’t if he liked boys or girls. He couldn’t cop out with a “both”. Not this time.

He tapped a rhythm across the keyboard before backspacing the random characters that he had typed across the coming out letter. He clicked to the suicide note. He scratched up his arm again as his phone buzzed. Jeremy again because who else would it be? He was asking about hanging out this weekend, ending it with a name that was one of the causes of these letters. A girl’s name.

He reached up to scratch at his arm again. Jeremy didn’t know better. He sent back a text that would have confused anyone.

_8:20pm// to Jere: I dont like that name_

But Jeremy is nice, too nice.

_8:21pm// from Jere: kay. do u wanna be called something else?”_

Michael sat shell-shocked looking at his phone. He knew Jeremy was nice, but Michael didn’t deserve this. He was a freak. They both knew that. Jeremy just felt bad for him. Of course he did. Jeremy could be way more well-liked if he stopped hanging out with a girl who dressed weird. He locked the phone before immediately receiving another text from his best friend, a simple one prompting a reply to the question.

Michael clicked between the tabs again. He had already decided with Jeremy it seems. However, Michael like the “both” option too much. It was so easy to just do both. Nothing would ever work out right, so why couldn’t Michael have what he wanted just this once?

His phone lit up with a call. Michael slid the ignore option under Jeremy’s name. It was futile, of course. His phone lit up again with a call from the same person. Michael sighed and answered the phone. It was okay, he had made a decision. He could talk to Jeremy now. He pressed print on both letters and picked them up along with his cellphone.

Michael’s hello was calm as he answered. Michael had started pulling on his jacket and shoes.

“Hey! Hey, what’s up with that text?”

He started down the steps. He put the letters on the kitchen table. With the same cool voice Michael had spoken with earlier, he answered Jeremy.

“I am transgender-“

“Oh, okay! That’s fine! What do you want to be called?”

“Michael, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going to kill myself,” He calmly delivered as he turned his key in the lock.

A pause. Then a frantic Jeremy, “What? When? Hey, where are you?”

“I’ve got to go, Jeremy.” He didn’t really need to go quite yet, but he had left enough for Jeremy in the letters. He didn’t need to fuck up the carefully planned words he had written.

“Don’t hang up this pho-“ A dead line.

A dead boy. Michael would get both. Like always.

He picked up his bike and started peddling.


End file.
